


Glimmadora and the (Insert Clever Rose-based Pun Here)

by HungryLibrary



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: ..... Gay, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, flirting???, idk when this happens probably after a lot of mutual oblivious pining, sap, slightly intense fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-14 05:25:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18046316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HungryLibrary/pseuds/HungryLibrary
Summary: Flowers, scars, guessing games and childhood stories.Two gay idiots in the Bright Moon gardens and a certain red flower Glimmer just happened to pick that day.





	Glimmadora and the (Insert Clever Rose-based Pun Here)

Glimmer comes back in a shower of sparks. Dropping down next to Adora she holds out a burst of deep red on long straight stalk.

“Okay, what about _this_ one?”

The guessing game is silly but it's a nice change from having basic stuff explained at her, so Adora eyes the flower and thinks very carefully. She only has so much to draw on, though, so her guess is pretty predictable. 

“Bloodflower.” Adora traces it’s petals with one finger, callouses catching on powdery softness. She’s seen this particular color hundreds of times before. “I got stabbed during training one time. The bloodstain on my shirt looked a lot like this.” She makes a face. “Almost ruined a perfectly good uniform… and almost lost the match on top of that.”

A puff of laughter and the flower gets pressed carefully into her hand. “Did you at least get a cool scar out of it?”

Bow would have winced at the story and definitely wouldn’t have used the word ‘cool’. Bow means well, but Glimmer’s the one who makes it easy to tell stories about the Horde.  

“M’not sure it’s _cool_ , but.” Reaching down Adora uses her free hand to tug loose the hem of her shirt, dragging it up and twisting to the side. “It did scar. Anything that didn’t kill you the medics always made sure scarred, as a reminder.”

Pink eyes flick down to look.

Adora would think it’s just coincidence that Glimmer checks out her abs first, except she’s already busy trying to fool herself into believing that her flexing at that moment is also totally by chance- Obviously her little show has absolutely nothing to do with the way those eyes linger maybe a few moments longer than they strictly should.

Which they do.

Suddenly Adora feels overheated even with the wash of cool air on bare skin.

She stares down at the flower specimen as a distraction. Which helpfully keeps her from staring at anything or anyone else.

A closer look shows a surprise. She can see why Glimmer was careful in giving it to her, the entire length of the stalk is studded with wickedly sharp barbs, each one with a point so fine she knows it’d cut into flesh better than any knife blade. Adora is impressed.

“Huh.” A finger pad brushes one carefully and sure enough comes away stinging. “Wow, sharp. So flowers can have weapons-?”

Warm skin on bare skin stops her dead. Makes her insides jump.

Glimmer’s palm is pressing flat against her side, fingertips just grazing the shiny dead white edge of the old scar, the rest of her hand resting a bit lower.

Adora’s blood is pounding in her ears. She locks herself in place on the bench to keep from leaning into the touch.

Physical sensation aside it’s also a pretty striking visual contrast, the darker bronze of Glimmer fingers splaying out across Adora’s own unhealthy, almost translucent Fright Zone pale.

Natural light never really was a thing back home, thanks to the smog clouds, and it shows. Scars and training that didn’t care if it gave them to you clearly wasn’t part of Glimmer’s home life and that shows too. She doesn’t have the knuckle callouses built up from years of punching without padding like Adora does, doesn’t have any nails screwed up from being smashed and crushed a few too many times or share Adora’s countless tiny nicks and burns.

It’s not that Glimmer hasn’t fought or trained- Adora can feel the rough patches scrape against her ribs as she breathes slowly in, has felt first hand their stubborn iron clad strength- it’s just that she’s been taking care of her body, not letting it get run down like Adora was taught to.

That self-awareness, self-consciousness, has to be why Adora finds herself swallowing hard. That’s why she ends up watching Glimmer take the sight in, searching her face for… something.

But Glimmer’s expression isn’t one Adora’s seen before and she has no idea what the quiet look means.

“… which one is from getting stabbed?”

Adora blinks. “Which-”

“Scar.”

“Oh! Uh.” Using the flower Adora points to the two inch long mark at the edge of Glimmer’s fingertips. “That one.”

Glimmer hums and traces the line so softly Adora can’t help shivering.

“And this one?”

She’s followed the first scar down to an older one, a small dimpled circle of silvery pink just peeking over the waistband of Adora’s pants. The scar’s stretched out from age but Adora can remember it being fresh just fine.

It’s not a funny memory. She laughs anyway, waving the flower dismissively. “That was just me being a stupid kid, climbing around places I wasn’t supposed to and then falling off and, you know, getting myself impaled.”

“Ouch.” Glimmer covers the scar with her thumb. A perfect fit. “How old were you?”

The scar tingles weirdly. The hand still holding up Adora’s shirt clenches tight against the feeling. “Eight...” She has to remind herself to breath out, barely remembers to tack the word onto the end of the breath.

Up tugs the corners of Glimmer’s mouth.

“When I was eight I teleported thirty feet into the air and somehow _didn’t_ smash my brains out hitting the solid stone floor. Only got a broken wrist.”

Adora laughs for real this time- She can just imagine a mini Glimmer sitting there, staring wide eyed at her hurt wrist and then around at polished flagstones, trying to figure out how the heck she wasn’t dead and scattered in many pieces.

“Nice. How’d your mom take it?”

“Nnn, _not_ great.”

That also gets a snort out of Adora. She is now picturing Queen Angella with a look of the utmost shock and horror, royal bearing gone, translucent wings bristling behind her.

“She grounded me of course. Figuratively AND literally.” Glimmer’s eyeroll is so familiar by now it makes Adora’s chest ache. That level of exasperation is something only Angella and sometimes Bow can bring out of her. “I told her it was a good lesson in magical control but she didn’t buy it. Said I was just _being reckless_ , like usual.”

A hint of the old resentment creeps in the way she says that last bit, a slight dimming of her distracted smile.

Adora doesn’t know what do with either of these things. So she redirects.

“And your next, uh, ‘impactful’ lesson in magical control was..?”

The redirection works. Beautifully.

Beautiful because that’s the only word for Glimmer when she glances up right then, smile slowly growing into a full out grin, the sparks in her eyes twinkling as she remembers.

“As a matter of fact… I think it was about two hours later. I got tired of being grounded and tried teleporting across the gorge outside my bedroom.”

She pauses for a beat.

“That didn’t work so great either.”

“Didn’t it though?” Adora’s seen said gorge and she’s seen Glimmer cross distances three times as wide in literally a blink of an eye without breaking a sweat. “You can’t tell me that all those lessons and practice didn’t make a difference. That’s what training’s _for_.”

Up comes on of Glimmer’s eyebrows. “Does repeatedly throwing yourself down a cliff really count as training?”

“Does getting stabbed?” Adora counters, indicating the first scar again with the flower as well as pointing out a few other smaller ones.

“If it works, it works. The main thing is you’re incredible with your magic now, right?”

The answer is ‘yes’ and its clear Glimmer knows Adora knows she knows it.

“ _Pffffftt_.”

And it could be Glimmer’s little huff that makes Adora heart thud, or it could be the flush of red on her cheeks as Glimmer looks down again. Or it might have something to do with how Glimmer’s thumb leaves her scar and starts rubbing absentminded circles around it. Adora isn’t sure. Adora isn’t so sure how breathing works for a few seconds either.

This kind of touching, gentle and casual and without any excuses piled up over it, still isn’t something she’s used to.

In the Horde holding hands was a kids’ thing and as Adora had gotten older she’d learned to pull her teammates into friendly grapples and headlocks instead, which could be played off as training if a supervisor saw. A hand on the shoulder was the most anyone was willing to risk. Catra sometimes was daring enough to try more, or was hurt enough that Adora would, but never when anyone could be watching. No one wanted to look weak. Or to be made to look weak.

Then Adora left the Fright Zone and hugs. Were. _Everywhere._

Hugs between friends, family, people who’d just met but pulled through a battle together. Hugs celebrating good things or reassuring when things didn’t work out so well.

So far though and for all the hugs she’d seen and gotten, she’s only managed to _give_ just the one, and that was just in return for the rib cracking hold Glimmer had wrapped her in when Swift Wind had pulled her out of Light Hope’s weird trance sleep vision talk thing. She's not sure that counts.

This right now… whatever this is… caressing maybe…?

It definitely isn’t a hug.

She’s never seen Glimmer do this with Bow. And Bow’s never tried to do this with Adora. And none of their other friends have either- Not that she’s seen anyway. But then she gets the feeling Glimmer’s hand wouldn’t still be on her if anyone else was around right now.

Adora is very, very glad that this corner of the garden is still empty.  

Technically this is less touching than a hug, but it _feels_ like more. A lot more. And the quiet between them seems like it’s so packed full of words there’s none left for Adora to actually say.

Instead, slowly, she lets the hand that’s been holding up the hem of her shirt sink down. Not fast enough to make it look like she wants ‘this’ to be over, but more of a casual drift, watching Glimmer’s face every step of the way to make sure she won’t leave.

Glimmer stays where she is, palm pressing in and thumb still drawing little circles. She looks so focused on it that Adora suspects it’s as much a ruse as her own flower staring was earlier.

The idea leaves her feeling a little lightheaded.

She stops when her wrist brushes Glimmer’s thumb. It’s tingly again, only more so, almost electric. The ghost of getting tapped by a shock baton but much, much, so much nicer.  

Carefully, as carefully as if she was handling the thorny stem of the blood red flower Glimmer had brought her, Adora slips her hand down and over Glimmer’s.

… Which means her shirt falls back into place.

Which means that suddenly she is sitting in the Bright Moon castle gardens, on a bench with Glimmer, facing each other, one of Glimmer’s hands under her shirt while one of Adora’s own hands keeps it there.

Adora can _feel_ the heat rushing to her face and would bet She-Ra’s sword that she was now as red as the flower she was holding.

Glimmer’s complexion saves her from the worst of that, but her cheeks get distinctly darker as Adora stares. Her grin is gone and she looks- Honestly about as thunderstruck as Adora feels which is nice in a way not being the only one but also makes Adora wonder, in a sudden flash of icy panic, if she’d just made another very big and terrible mistake.

A mistake with _Glimmer._

Which she’d done before more times than she could count, and Glimmer’d always been patient about it, but eventually that had to run out. It had to and it might have just and-

Adora jerks her hand away, heart hammering so hard Glimmer has to be able to feel it.

“Sorry, I- That just felt right but I’m sorry, I’m-”

The next thing she feels is.

Glimmer’s blunt nails biting softly into skin. A tug as Glimmer’s other hand fists in the front of her shirt. A swooping in her gut because Glimmer is looking up at her again with eyes brighter than Adora’s ever seen before, closer than she’s ever seen them before, and then that stubborn strength kicks in as Adora is getting jerked down to her level.

Adora knows what this is. There’d been no name for it in the Fright Zone but out here it’s called a ‘kiss’.

It’s the smallest, lightest, softest touch she’s ever felt.

Their noses brush and bump, fluffy bangs tickle her face, lashes tickle her cheek as Glimmer opens her eyes exactly five endless seconds later, ends the kiss, and slowly pulls away.

“… sorry.” Glimmer whispers, so quiet it’s hard to hear her over the rush of blood in Adora’s ears. Swallowing hard she meets Adora’s stare.

“That, that just felt right too.”

The words are simple enough, just her own words turned around and given back to her. They make every inch of Adora’s skin prickle. Make her chest seize up. The words reach past her ribs and squeeze her heart until she can feel every single beat.

After a second Adora’s notices her mouth is hanging open.

She shuts it, fast enough that her teeth click, and clears her throat.

“Oh. Good.”

It’s the lamest answer in the history of Etheria but Adora _swears_ Glimmer looks like it’s the key to all of life’s mysteries.

“Good?”

Again she’s repeating Adora. Again she’s whispering- Hopeful this time.

“Good, yes. Good.” Adora nods for emphasis. Because she cannot apparently speak. “Thank you.” The smile breaking out across Glimmer’s face is whiting out everything in Adora’s head. Everything except… “Um. Could you… again..?”

It’s weird. She sounds so weak when she asks it, but just asking takes every drop of the strength that she has.

Glimmer’s laugh sounds the same. Breathless and so shaky Adora’s half scared she’ll start crying.

She does tear up. When she leans in again Adora can feel dampness on her lashes where they brush her cheek. But Glimmer’s smiling so much that _she’s_ the one who can’t kiss back properly this time, and Adora decides that is the best possible answer she could ever get.

 

-

 

“So what’s the actual name of this?” Adora asks later, picking up the red flower from where it’d fallen at some point and twirling it between her fingers. “I’m guessing people don’t really call it ‘bloodflower’.”

Glimmer beams up from Adora’s lap. She’s sprawled out on the bench, heels swinging giddily off the end, Adora’s other hand clasped between hers against her chest. She’s glowing, literally casting faint shadows, and Adora cannot believe she’s actually kissed this girl- _Several times._ “In Bright Moon we call it a rose.”

“Arose.” Adora repeats.

Glimmer giggles. Adora feels it come bubbling up and it’s the most amazing thing.

“Just ‘rose’.” Her- Girlfriend?- explains patiently. “That’s one ‘rose’, but the gardens have many ‘roses’.” 

The new words are committed to memory. “Rose. A rose. Roses.” Adora recites them out of habit. She knows there’s no way she could ever forget them though, not now they’re tied to this moment and this girl lying with her head in Adora’s lap like it’s the only place she wants to be.

Said girl’s eyes become hooded, a slightly mischievous sparkle in her eye.

“You know, I didn’t plan on kissing you out of nowhere today-”

“But you did plan on sticking your hand up my shirt?”

“Oh come _on_.” Scoffing Glimmer ran her fingers across Adora’s knuckles, apparently not bothered by the thick callouses. “I think I remember YOU being the one to pull your shirt up in the first place. And then _flex at me_.”

Adora shrugs.

“The prettiest girl on Etheria asked to see my battle scars. Any tribunal would have acquitted me for showing off a little.”

“Hmm.” A low ‘if you say so’ hum thrums up from Glimmer. “Well _I_ charge you with the crime of having a hugely massive crush on me.”

“I plead guilty.” Adora is all too happy to agree, tickling Glimmer’s nose with the rose.

“Plegh! Point is.” Glimmer goes on, batting the rose away and pretending her blush hadn’t come back again. “I didn’t plan this, and you didn’t plan this. Which means this whole mushy spontaneous thing is all the flower’s fault!”

Adora looks at the flower.

It doesn’t look guilty. It just looks like a flower.

“Soooo…. You’re saying it’s magic?”

“No, but it’s a _rose_.” This time Glimmer says the name as if it meant something more than A Red Flower That Smells Nice But Can Also Stab You And Is Therefor Cool.

“Roses are like, one of THE most romantic flowers out there. They always mean some kind of love- Different colors for different kinds- and if you ever get to read any of the romance novels aunt Casta keeps sending me, you’ll see them e-ve-ry-where in the story. Picking it must have planted some kind of sappy, subliminal message in my mind...”

“Huh.” Exactly why a plant would symbolize anything other than good ground soil and adequate lighting Adora has no idea. But it sounds interesting. “What kinds of colors are there?”

“Well...”

Untangling one hand Glimmer frowns thoughtfully as she ticks them off on her fingers.

“There’s yellow, which I think means friendship? Or maybe jealously. Or betrayal. Or heartbreak. Or cheating. Or saying you’re sorry, maybe _after_ cheating? I don’t know. It can be kinda vague.”

Alarmed, Adora double checks to make sure the rose she is holding is not in fact even slightly yellow.

“Doesn’t sound like a good rose to get from someone.”

“Eh. Sometimes a pretty flower is just a pretty flower.” Glimmer shrugs as best she can lying down and put up another finger. “Then there’s white. Which is purity, innocence, humility, reverence, blah blah blah. All that crap.”

Adora nods takes note of the forced casual tone and swear word. She’ll have to remember white roses once she’s figured out how this whole flower giving thing works. 

“Then we’ve got various shades of pink.” Glimmer ticks off the count as she listed them.

“Pink in general is grace, and I think it means like a courtesy or gift thing, not the physical stuff. Light pink is energy, liveliness, passion, desire. Dark pink is gratitude. Orange means basically the same thing as light pink. Burgundy is for someone who doesn’t think they’re beautiful but is. Blue roses don’t actually grow naturally but some people dye white roses and those symbolize mystery and impossible stuff, which makes sense I guess, but I think it’s kinda tacky.”

She finishes with a whoosh of breath, hand flopping across her forehead dramatically. Adora watches her scowl in sudden realization. 

“I can’t believe I actually _remember_ all that from etiquette training…”

“Sounds useful.” Adora offers. “You could send messages using it. Or gauge how a kingdom feels about you, or wants you to think they feel about you, just depending on how they decorated for your visit.”

“Mmph.”

Glimmer looks slightly mollified by this take on it. Still it’s pretty clear that, in the middle of a war, she’d rather have swapped the flower symbolism for something like unarmed combat classes or such. Not much Adora can do about that now, so instead she goes over the list of colors and meanings in her head again.

And then she stops. The flower in her hand is a very obvious reminder of a color that’s been left out.

“Glimmer…”

“Hmph?”

“What about red roses?”

Glimmer goes very still.

With one hand still pinned to her chest Adora can feel the pause before she starts breathing again, and the way her pulse had thumped hard a drum in the silence.

“Red. Red is.” The hand on Glimmer forehead slides down to cover her eyes.

“It means… love…”

She’s so flustered. So cute. Almost shy- Glimmer’s never ‘shy’ it’s not a word Adora would have ever connected with her before all of This- And now here they are and Adora is too busy drinking in the sight to be flustered herself somehow, though she can feel her own face warming up.

Leaning in Adora touches the rose’s petals to Glimmer’s chin, then her lips. She smiles as Glimmer’s breath hitches again.

“What kind?”

Glimmer doesn’t bat the rose away this time. Her hand shifts enough for her to peek up at Adora.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

She’s smiling too, Adora sees. So Adora doesn’t feel at all guilty for grinning right back at her.

“Now answer the question, rebel commander Glimmer, princess of Bright Moon, defender of Etheria, founder of the new princess alliance.”

“Co-founder.” Glimmer corrects. “None of it would have happened without you.”

Adora rolls her eyes. “Pssh... You’d’ve managed without She-Ra-”

“I wasn’t talking about She-Ra.”

The hand moves from Glimmer’s face and drops back to her chest, to Adora’s hand held there. And Adora wishes Glimmer wouldn’t look at her like that. She can’t argue the point when the words catch in her throat- but she also wishes Glimmer would never ever look away.

“… answer the question.” She insists instead, even though she’s pretty sure she’s just gotten the answer. 

Glimmer closes her eyes, still smiling.

“A red rose means love that lasts. Love that _stays._ True love. It means I- I’d like it to. And I hope it does. And…”

She squeezes Adora’s hand.

“I think it will.”

Adora blinks hard. There’s a painful lump rising her throat and her eyes are stinging, only she doesn’t feel sad. It feels like she’s feeling everything BUT sad, actually.

Setting the rose down carefully she combs her fingers through feathery bangs, watching sparks wink in and out, watching the faint lines of tension melt from between Glimmer’s eyes, watching the girl she loves relax and lean into the touch.

“Yeah.”

Where will she be ten years from now? Fifty? Adora’s never thought about it before. She’s thinking about it now. She thinks she knows the answer.

She wants to be here. With Glimmer. _Always._  

“I think we will too.”


End file.
